


The Mark of Atlantis

by Exostrike



Category: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26790040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exostrike/pseuds/Exostrike
Summary: How Milo got his tattoo at the end of the movie. A short fluffy one shot.
Relationships: Kida Nedakh/Milo Thatch
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	The Mark of Atlantis

“I do not understand why you insist on marrying me before we make love?” Kida asked.

“It's just not the proper way of doing things,” Milo explained. Kida sighed and looked out over the city.

“Another surface thing?” she asked. The surface world seemed to have so many unnecessary rules and structures. An atlantean would have just gotten with it by now. He’d almost fought her off when she’d tried it.

“Something like that,” he admitted, looking away for a second. 

She smiled wryly. “Well then if you insist on a formal ceremony then you’ll have to get marked, she said.

“Marked? You mean a tattoo? But why?” he asked.

“These are not merely tattoos,” she said, touching her own face tattoos. “They are a sign of status. Each one telling a great deed.”

“I thought they were just artistic,” he muttered, reaching for his ever present notebook. He still loved to record every detail of the world he lived in.

“So you see you can hardly marry a queen without proving your social status,” she continued.

Milo stopped his writing and looked up through his glasses. “So what would that involve?” he asked.

“Obviously there isn’t anything formal,” she admitted. “But I’d say hunting down a fire scorpion in the lava tunnels singlehanded would be a good first step. It is the initiation rite for most hunters. It was for that that I got this one,” she explained, touching the largest of her face tattoos. Milo gulped hard, the colour draining from his face. “But I think you have proved yourself in saving Atlantis and myself from Rourke,” she quickly added. She knew he could be a brave warrior when he put his mind to it. Just his fear so often got in the way.

“So what kind of tattoo were you thinking about?” he asked. He would always ask about what she wanted before voicing his own ideas.

“I was thinking of a full body tattoo. Running from that brain of yours that knew our language to the arms that saved me with your back telling the epic tale,” she ran and hand through his hair. “You’d have to shave half your head, but I see wearing a mohawk well.”

“Perhaps something more low key,” he said after a pause. “I don’t want to overhype myself. Perhaps something that went for symbolism over detail and size? Especially the size.” She smiled, predictable as ever, and leaned back to think. What symbol or image could contain all that Milo had done for Atlantis.

“The heart of Atlantis,” she said.

“What about it?” he asked, looking up at the heart high above the city.

“No, I meant what about using the shape of the heart for the tattoo?” she explained. He had both rediscovered and saved the heart after all. 

“You mean something like this?” he asked, sketching out a rough design on a piece of paper. She looked over his shoulder as he worked.

“Remove the letter A,” she suggested. While it was the royal seal it was unheard of for a tattoo to include letters, plus it indicated a royal status that Milo technically wasn’t yet. He sketched out a few more designs until she saw one that caught her eye. “I like this one,” she said, picking it up to study it more. A stylized depiction of the heart with a surrounding aura. She laid it across his shoulder, trying to get an idea of what it might look like on his body. “I think it will look good on you.”

“You really think so?” he asked, smiling back.

“Of course,” she replied, getting up. “I will summon our best artist and order the preparations.” 

Later when Kida had given her orders she found Milo pacing the throne room. “What is the matter?” she asked.

“I’ve just been thinking. Is this the right thing?” he explained.

“About what?” she asked, guessing the answer. 

“About this tattoo,” he explained. “Am I really worthy to get one? I mean I haven’t done the tenth of what you’ve done. I’m not even an Atlantean. Is it proper to use part of your culture?”

“Of course it is proper,” she replied in exasperation. “You are going to be married to one soon.”

“Yeah but what if something goes wrong? What if I get an infection and die,” he continued to babble, a stream of consciousness.

“You’re not scared are you?” she asked. He paused for a second and sucked his lip.

“Yeah, kind of, ” he admitted. “I know it's going to hurt and I’ve kind of always hated needles”

“Milo, you do not have to face this alone,” she pointed out and took his hand in hers. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her.

“You’re right, Kida,” he said, breaking the kiss. “I was just panicking.”

“Good,” she said, dragging him towards the exit. “Lets get it done before you change your mind.”

They had prepared a well lit area of the palace for the procedure. The artist had a chair waiting and was polishing his tools when they arrived. “Your highness,” he said getting up to bow when he saw Kida. “It is an honour to perform this process for you.” 

“It is not I who you will be performing this one,” she reminded the man. Milo looked at the man’s tools, the needles of different lengths and thicknesses, the crystal dust infused inks.

“How long is this going to take?” he asked, uncertainty growing again.

“It shouldn’t be too long,” the artist replied, double checking the drawing of the design. “I have certainly done more complex designs, but the level of detail will be a worthy challenge. I understand this is your first marking?” he added to Milo.

“That’s right,” he replied.

“It will be an enlightening experience,” the artist commented in a way that only him and Kida could understand. “Please sit down.” 

Milo sat down on the chair and allowed the artist to gently positioned his arm so his shoulder couldn’t really move. “Are we ready?” he asked, readying his tool with an outlining needle. Milo paused for a second before nodding. “Then we shall begin,” the artist said and made the first cut. 

Milo whined as the need pierced his flesh and jerked his other arm. The tattoo artist paused, clearly expecting the reaction and looked at him with annoyance. “It is a sign of cowardice to cry out during the process,” Kida warned him. 

“I’m not a coward, it just hurts,” he muttered.

“Here hold my hand,” she suggested, sliding her hand into his.

“This would be so much easier with so anesthetic,” he added.

“What’s that?” she asked. He looked at her for a second and shook his head.

“Never mind, I’ll tell you afterwards,” he said and nodded to the artist to continue. The artist made the second cut. Milo’s hand instantly clamped down on her hand.

The tattoo artist worked slowly, wielding his needle with care and precision, ensuring the cut was perfect. All the while Milo was holding Kida’s hand like he was going to break it. He squeezed even tighter once more, breathing in short sharp bursts. Let through all of this he didn’t let more than the occasional grunt slip through his lips. It showed his inner strength, she thought, struggling though her own pain in silence, that he was able to undergo this without crying out. He’s doing it for you she realised. What else could motivate a person to endure such pain in silence. Even so she was once again surprised by Milo, how such an unimpressive man on the surface could be so much more. His grip tightened once more and she scrunched her free hand together to take her mind off the pain. She’d wished the artist would work a little bit quicker.

Eventually, after what seemed like an age the artist stopped and stepped back to look at his reaction. “It is finished,” he simply stated.

“It’s over?” Milo asked, finally letting go of her hand to struggle weakly out of the seat. She flexed her hand to make sure it wasn’t broken. It was sore but seemed intact.

“Let me see,” she said and moved around him to look at the tattoo. A shining blue star greeted her. She smiled, it was better than she had hoped for. “I love it,” she commented and grinned. 

“Still hurts a bit,” he said, moving to a mirror to examine the tattoo, rubbing at the skin around it.

“It will fade in time,” the artist explained. “Avoid touching it,”, he warned just as Milo was about to pick at it.

“Thanks for the advice,” he muttered, lowering his hand.

They left the artist with his tools and got some fresh air at the edge of the palace. “Well I made it through. I guess this is part of me now,” he commented as they walked, pointing to the tattoo. 

“It will never fade,” she confirmed. Even in his old age her father’s tattoos had still been fresh.

“So now that I am marked, when do we have the ceremony?” 

“Given what you went through I think we should have it as soon as possible.” She laughed and leaned over to kiss him.


End file.
